


two of us here

by yasgorl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4315353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yasgorl/pseuds/yasgorl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s all hers, this beautiful girl, and it fills Lydia up something fierce and choking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two of us here

Melissa meets her in an empty waiting room near the ER and patches her up while Malia paces the length of the room watching. Her long legs eat up the small space in a few steps at a time. The movement only seems to exacerbate the way Lydia’s vision has gone all watery and tilting.

“Would you relax?” Lydia asks, gasping at the bite of the sewing needle at her side. The antiseptic had stung, seeping into the wound and the surrounding flesh, despite Melissa’s gentle touch.

“You sure you don’t want a local? You don’t have to tough this out,” Melissa asks for a third time, pausing with her gloved hand in the air. She’s curled over Lydia’s wounded side, hanging off the end of one of the two plastic chairs they’d jammed together. Lydia refuses to check in, or be seen in a visiting room in the ER. She would have refused coming at all if Malia hadn’t insisted and nearly dragged her here.

“I’m sure,” Lydia breathes out. Malia’s eyes flick towards her then away, her jaw clenching, hands making fists at her side.

“You know, I don’t know how it feels to have the pain last but I know this is a lot worse than you’re letting on.”

“Malia, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not!” Malia shoots back, her eyebrows at her hairline. She faces Lydia full on now, Lydia’s earlier orders the only thing keeping her from approaching. Her nostrils flair and Lydia knows she’s scenting her, her pain and fear and sweat, hearing the way her heart speeds up and the way she forces it back down, breathing slow and deep.

“I don’t want to be numb for this,” Lydia grinds out, and nods again at Melissa. The needle plunges back in, slow and precise, and Lydia keeps her eyes trained on Malia, hot and angry, every emotion stark and alive in the tense line of her body, radiating out like an aura. She still feels slightly numb, her body heavy, keeps blinking away the fuzziness at the edge of her vision. For now, Malia’s the only thing that feels real.

*

They drive home in the early hours of the morning, Malia’s car sweeping through the empty streets. Lydia curls up in the passenger seat, feet pulled under her so the wound doesn’t stretch with her body. It’s a constant, dull pain, not so bad once she’d downed a few Ibuprofen after Malia’s insistence and under her watchful gaze. 

“I don’t know why you won’t let me help you,” Malia says after a spell of silence filled only with the engine’s hum and the sound of the tires rolling smoothly on asphalt. 

“I wanna feel it,” Lydia answers softly. It’s close enough to the truth that she has to bite it out, the rest of her words dammed up in her throat like an oncoming flood. She still feels the prickle of kanima poison in her blood, under her skin, like she’s lying on the cold tile of the police station, paralyzed and helpless, Kira’s hot hands pressing and pressing where she’d been split open, falling apart. 

“All the king’s horses and all the king’s men.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Lydia says. She reaches out for Malia’s hand where it’s settled on the armrest between them, curls her fingers around Malia’s forearm. She feels solid and warm to the touch. It’s comforting in a way that’s weirdly overwhelming. Lydia’s eyes go hot. Malia turns her arm so her palm faces upwards in a silent invitation. Lydia traces the line of her arm to her wrist, then slots her fingers in between Malia’s and doesn’t let go until they’re pulling into Malia’s driveway.

*

“Hungry? Want me to make you something?” Malia asks as she helps Lydia through the living room towards the kitchen. 

“Have you made something since I taught you scrambled eggs and potato?” 

Malia pulls away and lets Lydia rest her back against the hallway wall.

“Yes,” Malia says with a sudden smile.

“What?”

“Scrambled eggs and potato.”

Lydia rolls her eyes but smiles despite herself. Malia’s grin stretches even wider and Lydia’s heart lifts and twists in her chest. 

“Come here,” she says softly, reaching her hand out for Malia to grasp. She pulls off the wall and lets Malia follow her to the bedroom. 

“Sweetie…” Lydia says with a sigh, surveying the mess that covers most of the floor and every square space of available furniture surface. “I know it wasn’t like this the last time I came.”

Malia’s shoulders go all hunched and ashamed.

“I know,” she says, eyes dropping to a particularly large pile of clothes at her feet which she toes at miserably, like it had assembled itself overnight and appeared just in time to make her look bad in front of Lydia.

Lydia takes the chance to shed her jeans and settles her weight against the foot of the bed. They’d discussed it plenty of times and she knew Malia wasn’t _dirty_ , there was nothing gross or smelly or old in the mess it was just…her particular brand of organizational weakness. It would be difficult for anyone to go from living in the wild for a nice chunk of their formative years with no rules or possessions to…this. 

“I’m not mad,” Lydia says. Exhaustion hangs heavy in every breath, weighing down her shoulders. She reaches out for Malia and winces as a flare of red hot pain pulses at her side.

“Wrong arm,” she says, gasping, and holds out her other hand.

Malia slinks to Lydia with her head still hanging. If she had a tail right now it would be low, ears flat and spine curved. The image makes Lydia huff out a laugh, and she pulls Malia even closer so she’s slotted between Lydia’s thighs.

“What?” Malia mumbles, pressing her lips out in a little pout.

“God, no need to sulk about it, you’re already forgiven.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. It’s not even my thing to forgive, I just–I get that everything takes time. And I just wanna help you.”

“I know.” The phrase is rote by now. She’s so good at this, really listening to Lydia and taking her in. Lydia knows she talks a lot and maybe half of it is absorbed by the people around her at any given time, and maybe a quarter of that isn’t rebuffed or ignored. But this girl, earnest and eager and inappropriate more times than not looks at Lydia like she really sees her. Drives her up the wall too, sure, but it’s all waves on the surface and calm underneath. 

Malia’s thumb sweeps across Lydia’s fingers where she holds her and she’s stock still as only a wild thing can be, waiting for Lydia to speak. Lydia wets her lips and releases Malia’s hand, sweeping it up to grasp at her upper arm.

“Come down here and kiss me,” she says softly, and Malia folds instantly, grounding both hands on either side of Lydia on the mattress as she leans down to press her lips against Lydia’s. Kissing is a welcome distraction. It’s familiar and Malia’s so soft against her, gentle in the way she puts her lips to Lydia’s mouth and down to the line of her jaw, nuzzling at her throat. She waits for Lydia’s hand to wrap around the back of her neck and guide her, sinks readily to her knees so she can push wet kisses against the gentle curve of Lydia’s breasts.

“This should come off,” Malia says, plucking at the hem of Lydia’s cardigan. They’d cleaned the blood off her skin at the hospital but her clothes including the black tank underneath were thoroughly torn and ruined. 

“Mm, yeah, got anything I can borrow?” Lydia asks. Malia stands to help her peel off both layers, tossing them to the floor unceremoniously. 

“I didn’t mean I’d get you dressed again just yet.”

“Oh? What for? Aren’t we going to sleep?”

Lydia bites back a smile as Malia’s face scrunches in confusion for a whole second before she huffs out a laugh.

“You’re joking.”

“I dunno,” Lydia sings out, she reaches out with her foot and playfully nudges at Malia’s shin with her big toe. 

“You want me too much,” Malia says with a grin, hand flying out to catch at Lydia’s ankle, eagerly dropping to her knees again. She presses a careful kiss to the delicate bone there, then slides her palm up Lydia’s calf. “I can smell it on you, it only gets like this a few days in the month…makes me want you so bad.”

Lydia’s mouth goes dry. She wants to rock her hips down on the bed, feels the need for pressure between her legs go from a pleasant background thought to an urgent need. She’s always known about Malia’s keen sense of smell, but never given it that much thought in this exact context. 

“Well,” Lydia says faintly, “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“So good,” Malia answers fervently, she presses a kiss to the side of Lydia’s knee then rubs her cheek there like a cat, eyelashes a dark smudge against her cheeks. “I wanna eat you out tonight,” she turns pleading eyes up to Lydia, “I’ll be really careful. I wanna make you feel good, you’ll sleep so well.”

“Honey I think I’m ready to crash either way. But I–yes, I want that. God, open communication will never be our problem.”

“I don’t want us to have any problems.” Malia surges up and kisses at the corner of Lydia’s mouth.

“Me neither, believe me,” Lydia says, then gasps as the turn in her posture stretches her side. “Ah, we should--I’m gonna lie down.”

“Good idea. And I’m gonna lick you out.”

“Jesus, okay. Perfect marks for enthusiasm,” Lydia says as she scoots back. Malia doesn’t let up an inch, pressing needy at her throat and collarbone. Her hands are gentle as she helps Lydia lean back, the movement eliciting a soft sigh as the mattress meets the aching muscles in Lydia’s back.

“You okay?” Malia’s hand rubs up Lydia’s thigh questioningly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Malia pushes at Lydia’s shin so she pulls her leg up, then the other, so her feet are flat on the mattress and her thighs spread. It gives Malia enough room to crawl between, mouthing at the soft skin of Lydia’s inner thighs. She makes little ‘mm mm’ noises with each wet kiss that make Lydia blush, Malia’s unabashed enjoyment making something low in her belly tense and she wants that mouth on her  _now_.  

“That’s good. You’re so good,” Lydia breathes, reaching a hand out as Malia draws near to card her fingers through Malia’s hair. She keeps her touch light, petting at her once before Malia’s pressing her face to Lydia’s pussy through her panties, once like she’s kissing her there and a second time with the unmistakable dart of her tongue, wetting the fabric and pushing through her folds to reach at her swollen clit. 

“ _Oh_ ” Lydia says and Malia’s clever fingers tug the panties aside. 

“Spread further. Please? I need to get to you,” Malia says and Lydia pumps her hips up, exposing herself fully to Malia’s insistent mouth. She let’s her lips part and a drawn out breath escape at the first touch of wet tongue licking up her cunt. “Malia, oh.”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Malia says, happiness naked in her voice before she presses back in, tongue a flat, delicious pressure. She’s already swollen and heavy down there, pleasure building sharp and sudden as soon as Malia licks up the side of her hood and clit.

“Slow? Fast?” Malia asks in a rush.

“Fast sweetie, make me come,” Lydia gasps, one hand grasping to keep herself open for Malia and the other nudging at Malia’s hair. Her abs twinge in a way that wakes her injury, but even the spike in pain feels like a good thing, cutting through the haze and making everything go clear. Malia’s hand snakes to Lydia’s breast, her fingers finding a nipple to tug at in counterpoint to the sucking pressure of her mouth. 

Malia’s so good, Lydia’s sweet girl, no games at play when she does exactly what Lydia asks, sucking at her swollen clit then laving at the sides. She licks and sucks, each movement like the press on a gas pedal, mounting pleasure from deep inside. It feels like it’s being pulled from her, a slow sharpening build, all her senses honing in on Malia’s sweet mouth against her, “God, breathe,” Lydia gasps nonsensically, then, “ah, oh!” and she’s coming so intense and sudden it steals her voice. It feels like it pulses through her forever, her pussy clenching endlessly. Malia doesn’t let up until Lydia’s over the crest and shaking through the aftershocks.

“So good sweetie, you were so good,” Lydia says when she can finally catch her breath. Her chest heaves. Malia pulls back just enough to nuzzle gently at Lydia’s inner thigh, looking up at her with a shy, pleased smile. Her fingers go flat and gentle at Lydia’s chest, rubbing at the peaked nipple. Lydia’s side aches again as she returns to herself, a weird contrast to the heaviness at her groin and the deep well of satisfaction in her gut.

Lydia straightens her legs out, humming at the stretch and surveying Malia through eyelids grown heavy. Malia straddles one of Lydia’s thighs and rocks down.

“Mm, gonna let me taste you too?” Lydia asks, reaching to lace their fingers together.

“I don’t think you’re quite ready for that.”

“I’m tougher than you think.”

“Sure, do those banshee lungs come with healing abilities?”

“Hush,” Lydia says, smiling indulgently. “So what do you want? I’m not gonna let you go to sleep until you get yours too.”

“Well, it’s gonna be morning soon enough.”

“Malia,” Lydia says sternly, then, “I don’t need your nose to know you want it.”

Malia bites down at her lower lip, pushing playfully at Lydia’s hands. She’s unsure and she wants something and it’s up to Lydia to know her, to draw it out.

“Come on,” Lydia says softly, “I may be slightly incapacitated but I still want to see you. Hm? Wanna put on a show for me sweetie?”

Malia goes still at that, a flush spreading high on her cheeks. Gotcha, Lydia thinks.

“Clothes off,” Lydia says, and Malia scrambles to obey.

“No, keep those on,” Lydia says when Malia’s down to her panties. “Move up here, that’s good.” Lydia lets Malia’s hands go so she can grasp at her thighs, her knees digging into the mattress at Lydia’s sides. For all of Malia’s unashamed joy in sex she’s never made a performance of it. It makes Lydia ache inside watching her struggle between her need to please Lydia and the sudden awkwardness that seizes her in the unfamiliar territory of showing off. 

“Touch yourself,” Lydia says, “slide your hand underneath.”

Malia does as she’s told, dipping her chin down to watch as she pushes her hand flat against her stomach and under her panties. She fingers herself slowly, dipping down to collect slick where she’s wet then back up to rub at her clit. 

“Eyes on me,” Lydia says. Malia’s gaze snaps up. Her brow furrows slightly as she concentrates. Lydia rubs small circles at her thighs then up to the soft swell of her ass. “Feels good?” 

Malia nods. Her lower lip is a delicious shade of pink where her teeth are sunk in. She licks at them unconsciously and her hips start rocking incrementally into her hand, her eyes still focused on Lydia. There’s a smooth, delicate movement to her lithe body that Lydia suspects is entirely free of artifice, nothing she explicitly tries to do and it’s beautiful to watch. She slides her hands up the curve of Malia’s hips and thumbs at the skin of her taut stomach. Malia’s breasts sway slightly with her movement, two perfect handfuls that Lydia squeezes gently, moaning slightly to herself at the soft feel of them. She’s all hers, this beautiful girl, and it fills Lydia up something fierce and choking.

“Good, there you go,” Lydia croons. Malia shifts, jostling Lydia slightly so she winces. “No you’re fine, lean down.” She pulls at Malia’s thighs so she’s closer, then tugs at the bottom of her panties with two fingers, the fabric soaked through.

“Need something inside you, sweetie?”

Malia’s face crumbles in sudden need. Her fingers speed up and she lets out an involuntary moan. 

“Yes, please.”

“Mmhm, what do you want?”

“Your fingers? Please. Or–”

“I can do that. Take it easy. Slow, baby.” Lydia steadies Malia’s hips which have started moving faster above her. Malia lets out a sharp moan but obeys, slowing down as Lydia slides two fingers slowly inside her. She’s so wet that Lydia sinks easily into that tight heat. Malia’s mouth falls open. Her head dips down suddenly then back up, eyelids fluttering shut and open. 

“God you’re so hot inside,” Lydia says.

“Feels…good– _nnn_.” Malia’s voice goes high and wavery and Lydia knows she’s found the right spot. She presses gently in and out, then more insistent as Malia starts rocking down to meet her, rubbing at her clit throughout. Slick runs down Lydia’s palm to her wrist. Malia gasps out breathy and high with every thrust until she lets out a sudden, unwavering cry. She clenches down hard around Lydia’s fingers in pulses and Lydia keeps still, gives her that pressure and resistance that makes Malia go wild, whole body rocking back and forth with the force of her pleasure.

“There you go. God, so good. Look at you, look at you baby.” Lydia pets at Malia’s thigh and side with her free hand until Malia’s shaking with tiny shudders, then slips her fingers out. 

“Look at me,” Lydia says softly. She brings her fingers to Malia’s open mouth and Malia wraps her lips around them eagerly, sucking at her own slick. Lydia presses her thumb to Malia’s wet open lips when she’s done and meets her heavy, dazed eyes. There’s nothing else that matters and nothing that could ever make this bad for her, nothing that could ever take this away. She moves her hand to cup Malia’s jaw and Malia turns into the touch, nudging at her and letting out a low, content hum.

“Bed?” Malia mumbles.

“Already there, babe.”

“You know what I mean,” she says and bites gently down on Lydia’s thumb. “Sleep.”

“Yes, alright.”

“For hours and hours.”

“If you’ll let me move,” Lydia grumbles.

“And sweet dreams.”

“Only the best dreams. But I’ve got my dream right here.”

“ _Lydia_.” Malia protests, but she’s smiling dopily and she shifts away, gentle with her movements, adjusting so there’s room for Lydia at her side.


End file.
